


I'm not the gentleman everyone thinks I am

by Catrowline



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Because let's face it Steve is a total Dom, Dominant Steve Rodgers, F/M, Hence the title, I was told that Doms are gentlemen, Light BDSM But Later On, Pietro Maximoff Lives Because I Can't Deal With His Death, Possessive Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve is sick of being a gentleman, but Steve is a very different type of gentleman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-03-17 01:30:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13648611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catrowline/pseuds/Catrowline
Summary: Steve is dropping the gentleman act and finally showing his true self.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lady emebalia (emebalia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emebalia/gifts).



"Allis, have you heard of the next banquet they're throwing for us?" says Wanda suddenly, her eyes lighting up. She loves those events, it makes her feel like she's appreciated and, quite frankly, she craves appreciation. I look up from my bowl of Rice Crispies, the spoon dropping from my mouth.  
"Er, I've never been to one," I admit. I've just joined the Avengers, and not many people have heard of me. "So no, I haven't heard of a banquet or anything..."  
I have a tendency to answer questions lop-sidedly. Wanda shakes her head. "Well, you're going to this one," she grins. "I won't let you miss it."  
I smile, nudging her with my shoulder. "I know. When is it?"  
Wanda seems way too pleased to be able to answer my question.

I'm staring at my wardrobe, dejectedly, Wanda at my side.  
"I. Have. Nothing. To. Wear," I whine, kicking most of my clothes further onto the floor with each word.  
"Well, nothing for a chic occasion like this one," says Wanda with a shrug.  
"Not helping, Wanda!" I groan. A knock is issued from my door, and Wanda and I both look, and we find Steve standing there awkwardly.  
"Erm," he begins before scratching the back of his head. "Eh, Allis... Well... I heard that you had trouble finding suitable clothing for tonight?"  
I nod, egging him on.  
"Well, I'm going into New York now, so if you want to use the opportunity to give the shops a look, tell me."  
I sneak a glance at Wanda, who nods quickly.  
I should take this chance... Might lead me to something with Steve, who knows?  
"Sure, Steve," I smile. "Let me get my bag, I'll meet you at the door?"  
He nods, and leaves.  
"Oh my," I breathe. "What just happened?" Wanda giggles.  
"You. You're going out with Steve!" She squeals. I grin, shaking my head.  
"It's not a date, Wanda, he's just letting me "use the opportunity to give the shops a look"," I repeat, making quotation marks with my hands. Wanda smiles.  
"Details, details," she winks at me. She picks up a blue shirt, tossing it to me. I hold it up, and notice it's a crop-top.  
"I'm not putting that on," I groan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it was difficult to understand, I'd like to clarify a few things.  
> The first chapter is like an introduction.  
> Now, you're going to see a few flashbacks, because I've gotten a few comments and messages telling me that y'all want to know more about my Allis...  
> So here comes the first.   
> I hope y'all like it, and I hope you like Allis so far!

_What is this fire? Why is it coming out my hands?_ I’m burning, but it doesn’t hurt. And suddenly, a gust of wind extinguishes the fire growing from my hands, and it’s like it never was. My brother stares at me, open-mouthed.

“Ho- How did you do that?” he whispers. He takes a step back, which surprises me. I’ve never seen Garrett step away from anyone or anything. “I don’t know,” I say, and I notice, as I speak, that my cheeks are soaked. It’s as if I’d been reunited with something I used to love and forgot.

Days pass and nothing happens. Garrett goes back to his university, and we never speak of my fire episode again. It’s as if it never happened.

The next episode is that I find out that I can breathe underwater. I’ve been enjoying a nice warm bath, and I guess I fell asleep, for the next thing I know is I’m breathing normally, and everything is blurry over me. I sit up, and my face breaks free from the water.

“How the...” I can’t. What is happening to me? I’ve heard about enhanced people, the Avengers are a prime example of that, but all that is happening far, far away, across the ocean, in America, in Russia, why is it happening to me? I’m fine over here in France, I don’t want this.

Wind is howling, it’s wrapping around me, turning into a torna; do. My mom and dad stare at me. They've never witnessed this before, I've tried to hide this part of myself for so long, for two years I've kept this inside. We’ve been yelling at each other again, and now my eyes are flaming, literally flaming and with the wind churning around me I must look like a demon. I’ve been teaching myself to control this, to keep it under my thumb; I wanted to keep it a secret, but the cat is out of the bag.

Tony Stark is sitting at my dining room table.

“We’ve heard about your daughter’s abilities,” he tells my parents. I’m supposed to be sleeping in my room, but I’ve discovered these powers when I was sixteen, I’m now eighteen, I don’t need to do anything they tell me.

“We, that is the Avengers, would like to ask her to join us. What do you say, Allis?” he says. Obviously, he knew I was up. I watch my parents. They immediately tense up, although they attempt to hide it, and it breaks me a little more. They love me, they always will, but me staying here scares them, it scares them stiff.

“I’m in,” I tell the Iron Man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And about Allis's powers, the explanation will come later, as a friend said to me, this is Marvel, not X-Men, and I'm going to give you the cause behind her powers, don'tcha worry!  
> Everything is going to make (some) sense soon, don't worry.   
> Hope y'all have a nice day!


	3. Chapter 3

The area is surrounded by grass, and you'd probably picture a barn in the middle, instead of the achitecturally beautiful construction.

"This is the Avengers' Headquarters?" I ask tentatively, although I already know the answer, thanks to the giant A engraved on the side of the building. Tony Stark grins at me, standing proudly at my side.

"Yeah, it sure is." He smiles like the Cheshire Cat, and I can't help but answer with a small smile of my own. This boy in a man's body is starting to grow on me. He leads me inside, and I find myself a few minutes later seated in a comfortable plush couch, as more of the Avengers join us. I recognize the Maximoff twins - Pietro and Wanda - by their apparent closeness and the fact they're speaking Russian or Sokovian.

I can see Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff chatting in a corner, I can see Doctor Bruce Banner eyeing her wistfully, I can see Thor walking up to Bruce Banner, clapping him on the back, causing the poor man to stumble and cough up the drink he was sipping. All in all, I see a group of close friends, people who have seen a lot together, people that I will never have that kind of deep history with. I'll have my own history with them, but it will never compete with the one they have. Vision walks through the wall, towards Wanda, who brightens up as she sees him. I snicker. If they don't end up together, I think I'd be sick. I think the whole world will be sick. Tony, who still stand next to me, protectively, clears his throat loudly, just as a young boy, about my age perhaps, jumps into the room through an open window; must be Spider-man.

"Where's Cap?" he asks loudly. Tony shrugs.

"He'll get here fashionably late," laughs Barton. "I think he's actually on a mission with Bucky and Sam. Care to introduce the new girl?"

"The new girl," answers Tony, "will introduce herself." He nods encouragingly at me, and I stand up awkwardly.

"Well, I'm Allis, I, uh... I can control - well, kinda - fire, I can breathe underwater and I can influence the wind." Wanda stands up.

"That's wonderful," she smiles. It seems that everyone here smiles a lot - I don't know if I can fit in... "But I've a question." I apprehensively look at her. What could she possibly -

"Will you bunk with me? I need a friend who happens to be a girl." That surprises me, but it's a good feeling. "Too many guys, huh?" I find myself grinning. Maybe I will fit in.

"Hey! What about me?" butts in Natasha. Wanda wrinkles her nose comically.

"You are too much like the guys," she snickers. Natasha raises her hand to her heart, as though having received a fatal blow.

"Oh! The hurt!" In the end, I agree to bunk with Wanda. I need a friend, and it looks like I've found one in Tony, in Wanda, in Pietro (whom I've learned was saved by Banner after he'd been shot with over twelve bullets at once - it's a miracle he's alive).

 

It has now been a few weeks since I've joined the Avengers, but I have yet to see a glimps of a mission. Wanda, however, has been several times, which bugged me when she was gone because she was the only buffer between me and unnecessary human connexion. Wanda and I have grown quite close, and I've become her shadow. I think she's starting to grow uneasy because of it, and I don't want to lose her for this, so as she's been away, I've worked on my relationships with the others. I've found out that the young boy's name is Peter, that he is Spider-Man, and also, more importantly, that he is a bit of a fanboy, and that he and I share a love of American TV shows. We've binge-watched Supernatural together, and I have to admit that I had a lot of fun. I hung out with Rhodey, as he's working on his re-education after a fall that should have killed him, and he's given me a lot of advice, and helped me work with my powers, which I think he enjoyed more than me.

"Allis," calls out Peter, "The others are back!" 

I look up from my book,  _A Wrinkle In Time_ by Madeleine L'Engle, and smile. 

Finally, I might be able to talk to Tony about going on a mission.


	4. Chapter 4

I've been waiting for Tony to assign me to a mission for a while now, but nothing has ever come my way. I guess I'm going to have to give destiny a little push.

I walk down the stairs to Tony's workplace, and abruptly stop before I'm seen as I overhear a heated conversation between two men.

Tony and Steve. Tony is looking straight at Steve, whose back is to me. Neither of them has heard me, let alone seen me.

"-and she's supposed to stay quietly?" Tony growls. "You don't know what I know, Cap! You don't know what she's capable of!"

I just _know_ who _'she'_ is.

"I'm sure she's _very_ capable, Tony, but I won't let her go on a mission." Steve deadpans. I wait for a _'yet'_ , so does Tony, but it doesn't come.

"Yet," supplies Tony. It's strange how much Tony and I are on the same wavelenght. "Allis is one of the strongest, most powerful people I've encountered."

"How would you know? You've never seen her in action!" Says Steve, his arms rising.

"I have."

Wait, what?

"I've been keeping tabs on her for a while."

"Why?" I step out of the shadows. "Why, Tony? Why, Captain?"

Tony and Steve jump, turning to me. "Allis-" says Steve, trying to soothe me.

"No, Steve," says Tony, raising a hand to stop him. "She's got to know. You've got to know."

Tony goes quiet, motioning to us to follow him into his workplace/office, offering us chairs. I sit down, but Steve stays upright and stoic.

"When I was about fourteen, three years before my parents died, my mother got pregnant. Of my father," he adds after a second. "They were ecstatic. They thought they'd never have any other children after me, because of their age. It was a miracle." He takes a deep breath. "But before my parents learned of my mother's pregnancy, my father had been experimenting with different rays and stuff that I never was interested in, but once, my mother came down to bring him something - lunch, I think - and was exposed to the different things. They ran tests on her for a bit, and that's when they discovered her pregnancy. They were happy, so happy, but, oh, were they worried. The child wasn't developed yet, so no tests were possible, but when the child was born, the best, strongest, most amazing little girl was born. She was so healthy, and they ran more tests, didn't find anything."

Girl?

"And then Mom and Dad died. I was seventeen, couldn't be responsible for my sister, so they took her away. I wanted to be able to find her, but I never was able to. Until," and at this, he stares into my eyes, eyes so similar to his, "a few years ago. A tornado was sighted over a house in France, and I went to look at it. Smack in the middle, you, Allis."

"Are you saying that-"

"I am saying that. I am your brother, Allis, and I have finally found you."

He's got tears in his eyes, and I'm probably sure I do too.

"Why didn't you say so sooner, Tony?" I murmur.

"Anxiety? Fear?" he shrugs. "I didn't know if you knew that you were adopted... If you would believe me."

"Oh, I believe you, Tony." I leap up from my chair and into his arms, myself surprised at this.

I hold my brother tightly, and I never want to let him go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this escalated quickly. It basically poured out of my fingers without any filter, and I just really want to post and see what y'all think!

Tony and I sit side by side, trying to outmatch each other on this stupid game he’s got me addicted to. He’s just gotten back from some mission somewhere far away, where I wasn’t allowed to reach him because, and I quote Steve, _“you don’t have the qualifications”._

Qualifications, my ass. All I wanted to tell - or rather, yell - him was that I’d have the qualifications if he’d given them to me. I could see in Tony’s eyes that he wanted me to tell Steve that, but I just could’nt bring myself to do it.

But today, with Tony’s support, I’m going to. When our game is over - because I died (again), I turn to my brother.

“I want to go on a mission with you.”

Tony smiles. “I want you to go on a mission with me,” he says, and sighs. “But Steve’s against it.”

“Why? Why does he hate me?”

“Believe me, he doesn’t hate you, far from it.”

Is that resentment I detect in his voice?

“Then why?” I want this question answered so badly, Tony. Please, please answer.

“Not my answer to give.”

I stand up sharply, rubbing my forehead.

“Goddammit, Tony! I don’t understand!”

My breath quickens, and I can fel my scalp prickle. _Is this only happening because my brother is here? Just like last time? With Garrett?_

I cast quick glances around me and multiple papers and other objects around the room start to fly around.

“Allis, calm down,” says Tony, his brow furrowed. I try and focus on one thing, his face, the eyes we share in color and shape, the shape of his nose, his thick eyebrows - good thing I didn’t get those - his mouth, back to his eyes and next thing I know, the room is back to normal.

“You’re quite scary, you know?” comes a deep russian accent from my side. I squeal, jumping half a foot aside, and glare at Pietro.

“Did you have to?” I growl, but my anger is quieted down as I watch him and Tony share smirks. I catch a glimpse of a red blur before I feel a heavy weight on my back, and groan.

“Wanda, get off!”

“Why should I when I’ve just reunited with my best friend?” grins my roommate from over my shoulder.

“Because I’m quite tired,” I shake her off from my sore back. “And I’m going to confront Steve and make him assign me on a mission."

“I’ve got to be there,” she giggles. I shake my head.

“Wanda, I’d rather it be just between he and I, if you don’t mind.”


	6. Chapter 6

Although I tried to resist as best I could, Wanda eventually persuaded me to confront Steve in front of everyone. Her arguments were that so much could go wrong if we were alone, if there was no one to watch us – this, she said with a waggle of the eyebrow. It caused me to dissolve into a fit of snorts which she used as blackmail to force me to accept her terms.  
I guess that's what best friends do.  
So on behalf of me, Wanda has assembled all the Avengers in the dining room so that I can 'officially' make my request to go on a mission.  
We're actually only waiting on Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes and Captain America, who have yet to come back from their run of the morning.  
The moment we hear the front door open, Pietro is gone, and I can only assume that he's telling the trio to get their asses in here.  
Although he'd never use that kind of language in front of Steve.

At last, the four men enter the living room. Pietro, Sam and Bucky take their places near me, and Steve eyes the disposition of the room.  
I'm sitting at the end of the dining room table, and pretty much everyone is sitting behind me. Wanda directly at my right, Tony right behind me, Peter on my left, Pietro stands, hovering, behind his sister, Natasha sits on a couch in the living area behind me, where Bruce, Vision, Rhodey, Sam, and Bucky have joined her, and Clint hangs from the rafters above me.  
Everyone, for once, is backing me up.  
Steve sighs. I look up at him, watch him stand tall, his hand on the doorknob, looking weary of what's coming his way, and I try to keep my face blank.  
I'd like to think I succeed in that.  
“Please, Steve, have a seat.” I nod to the far end of the dining table, where no one, not even Bucky, sits.  
“On this, Cap, you're alone,” says Tony, a reassuring hand squeezing my shoulder.  
Steve takes five long strides, five elegant, strong strides, and sits, facing me. He doesn't look at anyone else, not even James Buchanan Barnes, and his eyes pierce me.  
“State your emergency,” whispers Peter on my left. I hold back a grunt of laughter, then eye him reprovingly. He shrugs, his knee jerking up and down. He's anxious, which I understand.  
If I wasn't sitting on them, my hands would be shaking.  
And with them, the building would be shaking as well.  
“You've assembled the Avengers for a reason,” says Steve flatly. “What is it?”  
“You have refused to send me on a mission, let alone let me show you how well I control my powers.”  
He waits a beat, then sighs.  
“Put like that, it does seem unfair. But please let me explain.”  
“Go ahead, Steve, explain.” Tony's voice is sharp, and I don't have to look to know that his eyes are narrowed into slits, dangerous dark slits that can tear you to pieces the longer they are trained are you.  
“You're this fire-controlling, hurricane-making superhuman girl who claims to know how to control her powers, who happens to be one of the founders of the Avengers' sister, and I'm supposed to trust you from the get-go?”  
I nod. I've been expecting that. “I'm sorry that I do know how to... mostly control myself, and you'd know that if you let me show you,” I say. “About me being Tony's sister, well, I can't help it, I wasn't the one to announce it, remember? Tony sprung that one on me as much as he did on you.”  
Steve hums. “True. I apologize.”  
“Don't. You have the right to be concerned. The only thing I ask of you, Steve, is that you let me show you my powers.”  
“I can say yes to that.”  
The Avengers begin to get up, start chatting, but I stay seated and so does Steve. And when I speak, everyone goes quiet.  
“And lastly, Steve, I'm not a girl. I'm a woman. It's time you start treating me like an adult woman, not a child.”  
I get up, and without a last glance, saunter my way out of the room. From the way that Clint whistles, it must've looked good.  
Real good.

The next day, Wanda and I are up bright and early and are occupying the training room, under Clint's sharp supervision.  
“Wanda, you want to lean on your left foot, it's your strong one. Allis, watch your arms. Don't let them flail around, your adversary could grab it and you'd be fucked.”  
“Don't rely solely on your powers.”  
My head whips around, and Bucky stands in front of the closed door. I don't know why I'm disappointed that it wasn't Steve.  
“Bucky?” questions Wanda.  
Bucky turns to her. “Punch me,” he says.  
Wanda seems almost too happy to comply...  
He leans back, raises his metal arm, blocks it, moves towards her and attempts to trip her. Wanda reacts instinctively, her hands glowing red, and Bucky flies back.  
“Why not use my powers if I can?” says Wanda as Bucky stands up.  
“Imagine you find yourself in a situation where you can't use your powers. You're helpless if that happens,” he answers. “Allis, your turn.”  
I advance, shaking my head to ready myself.  
“As Clint said, you want to keep your arms close to your torso. It's also recommended to keep them in front of you, so as to block any punch directed to your chest or your face.”  
I raise my arms as if I was going to give a punch. “Like this?”  
Bucky nods.

“Just let me die, Allis,” moans Wanda, splayed, on her back, on the plush mats of the training room.  
I pant, leaning against the cold wall. “If you die, I die,” I rasp.  
Clint and Bucky are chatting animatedly with Sam and Vision, who have joined us a few hours back.  
We've been in the training room for what seems like years but actually are mere hours.  
Peter also joined us, making us look terrible until he collapsed, exhausted.  
“I'm so done,” he whines, his voice muffled by the floor. He lies, flattened, on the mats.  
“Come on, kids, let's get back to it,” says Clint jovially, clapping his hands thrice.  
Three voices ring out in harmony.  
“Oh HELL no!”

 

  
oOOOo  
Hello, my friendsies!  
I kinda abandoned this fic to the profit of my exams, which I passed!  
So not only am I really proud, but I can now continue my writing. Hurrah, right?  
I hope you still like it, and I apologize for those two chapters I added and deleted quickly. A friend of mine read them and hated them (well, they didn't particularly like 'em), so I couldn't leave it posted.  
I like this one better anyway, and I hope y'all do too.  
So... Carry on (my wayward sooooon, there'll be peace when you are dooooone, lay your weary head to reeeest, don't you cry no more)!


	7. Chapter 7

It became a habit for Wanda, Peter, Pietro and I to train in the morning for around four to five hours with Bucky, Clint, and sometimes Natasha.  
The rest didn't quite need the training (am I the only one to think that Steve's abs probably have abs?) and had other things to do.  
Tony has been working some legal stuff out for me, as I will soon have to reveal myself as Tony Stark's long-lost sister that no one has ever heard of, and then make my claim on my shares of Stark Industries (that I absolutely do not want).  
I offered to sign them over to Tony, but he refused point-blank, because 'Mom and Dad wanted you to have half of Stark Industries, so you'll have half of Stark Industries.”  
I could hardly say no to that.

_“Allis, have you heard of the next banquet they're throwing for us?" says Wanda suddenly, her_  
_eyes lighting up. She loves those events, it makes her feel like she's appreciated and, quite frankly,_  
_she craves appreciation. I look up from my bowl of Rice Crispies, the spoon dropping from my_  
_mouth._  
_"Er, I've never been to one," I admit. I've just joined the Avengers, and not many people have_  
_heard of me. "So no, I haven't heard of a banquet or anything..."_  
_I have a tendency to answer questions lop-sidedly. Wanda shakes her head. "Well, you're going to_  
_this one," she grins. "I won't let you miss it."_  
_I smile, nudging her with my shoulder. "I know. When is it?"_  
_Wanda seems way too pleased to be able to answer my question._  
_I'm staring at my wardrobe, dejectedly, Wanda at my side._  
_"I. Have. Nothing. To. Wear," I whine, kicking most of my clothes further onto the floor with_  
_each word._  
_"Well, nothing for a chic occasion like this one," says Wanda with a shrug._  
_"Not helping, Wanda!" I groan. A knock is issued from my door, and Wanda and I both look, and_  
_we find Steve standing there awkwardly._  
_"Erm," he begins before scratching the back of his head. "Eh, Allis... Well... I heard that you had_  
_trouble finding suitable clothing for tonight?"_  
_I nod, egging him on._  
_"Well, I'm going into New York now, so if you want to use the opportunity to give the shops a_  
_look, tell me."_  
_I sneak a glance at Wanda, who nods quickly._  
_I should take this chance... Might lead me to something with Steve, who knows?_  
_"Sure, Steve," I smile. "Let me get my bag, I'll meet you at the door?"_  
_He nods and leaves._  
_"Oh my," I breathe. "What just happened?" Wanda giggles._  
_"You. You're going out with Steve!" She squeals. I grin, shaking my head._  
_"It's not a date, Wanda, he's just letting me "use the opportunity to give the shops a look"," I_  
_repeat, making quotation marks with my hands. Wanda smiles._  
_"Details, details," she winks at me. She picks up a blue shirt, tossing it to me. I hold it up, and_  
_notice it's a crop-top._  
_"I'm not putting that on," I groan._

The banquet, it turns out, is actually some kind of gala, some 'public relations shit' (Tony's words, not mine) that we have to attend so that Tony can make the bomb announcement of 'I have a sister and she owns half of my company'.  
“I'll just go in my training shirt,” I shrug. Wanda sighs as I grab my bag.  
“All this for nothing,” she says. “He's not going to be impressed,” she adds as I make my way for the door, shaking her head at me. I blush.  
“I'm not trying to impress him, Wanda!”  
I walk out the door, sticking my tongue out at her, and ram into something solid. I look up and find Steve there, grinning from ear to ear.  
“Oh, Steve!” I exclaim. “I'm sorry!”  
He pats me lightly on the shoulder. “It's fine, I was just wondering what was taking you so long.”  
I groan. “Sorry, it's Wanda... she had, er, things to tell me.”  
We silently take the elevator down to the ground floor and walk out. Steve's motorcycle is sitting near the curb, and I laugh nervously.  
“Er, are we taking your motorcycle?” Steve turns to me, his eyebrows shooting past his hairline.  
“Yeah, why? Is that an issue?”  
I shake my head, gulping. “Well, I'm just kind of scared of motorcycles, I guess.”  
“Why?” he says, leaning his head to the side. He looks like an over-grown, over-muscled puppy.  
“Have you heard of all the motorcycle accidents that happen in one week?” I deadpan. Steve laughs, throwing his head backward.  
“You think I'd get us into an accident?” he says with an amused look on his face.  
“Let's just go,” I groan. Steve smiles, hands me a helmet and straddles his motorcycle.  
“Hop on,” he says. I hold up a hand.  
“I can hardly hop on a motorcycle with a tank top on,” I say. “I mean, even if we don't die on it, I'm going to freeze!”  
Steve nods, unable to hide his grin. “Take my hoodie,” he says, reaching into the motorcycle compartment once more, producing a thick, black hoodie with Stark Industries inscribed on it. I take it, and it's soft.  
“It says Stark, isn't it Tony's?” I say quizzically. Steve nods.  
“He got one for all of us, a while before you joined. He might have one in stock for you, though,” he adds. I shake my head with what I hope is a cheeky grin.  
“I'd rather steal yours,” I say, tugging the hoodie over my head and straddling Steve's motorcycle, holding on to his waist.

After a half hour of hugging Steve from behind to hold on for dear life, I finally start to relax.  
“How's it going back there?” hollers Steve over his shoulder. His black aviator sunglasses frame his face in a way that should be illegal.  
“I'm okay,” I shriek back so that he can hear me over the sound of the traffic.  
He takes up into New York, swerving between cars and buses, and every time he turns, I tighten my hold on his shirt a little more. He seems to know his way around New York quite well, and I remember hearing that he had grown up in Queens or Brooklyn, something like that.  
He pulls up to a curb in front of a nice, classic-looking shop featuring dressing gowns and tailored suits.  
“How did you know this place?” I say, my jaw dropping open. “It's so... perfect!”  
Steve chuckles, reaching for the helmet on my head that I'd forgotten about.  
“A friend of mine recommended it to me once, and now that's where I always go for my suits.”  
“How do you know New York so well?” I say as we enter the shop. It's cozy, charming, and full of dresses and suits of great taste.  
“'Ello, Mister Rodgers,” says an elderly man. It turns out he has a French accent. So that's where the great taste comes from.  
“Hello, Albert,” smiles Steve. “I'm here for the suit I requested two weeks ago.”  
“And, uh, **je suis là pour acheter une robe de bal** ,” I say in French. Steve looks taken aback, and so does Albert.  
“ **Bien sûr** ,” smiles Albert. “ **Vous êtes française**?”  
“ **En effet, j'ai grandi près de Paris** ,” I nod. “ **Je n'ai que très récemment déménagé ici, enfin chez les Avengers** ,” I say, glancing at Steve who listens to our conversation with round eyes.  
“ **Ah, j'ai moi-même vécu dans Paris** ,” says Albert with misty eyes. “ **C'est beau, n'est-ce pas**?”  
At my nod and smile, he claps his hands together.  
“ **Mais vous n'êtes pas là pour m'entendre raconter mon passé, non, non. Quel genre de robe cherchez-vous? Une robe de soirée, de bal**...”  
“ **Il s'agit d'une robe adéquate pour un gala, monsieur** ,” I say. “ **J** **e ne saurais vous en dire plus**.”  
“ **Pas besoin, ma chère, je crois avoir ce qu'il vous faut**.” He tugs me by the arm towards a mannequin wearing a long, powder blue dress. It pools at the bottom, making it almost look like an upside-down tulip. At the waist, it bears a white sash, tied into an intricate knot, adorned with what I hope are fake gems. The ends of the sash hang loosely, giving the gown a simple, classical feel.  
“It's perfect,” I murmur. I'm usually not a fan of fashion or dresses, but this one looks incredible. Albert notes my turn to English, and follows my lead.  
“Would 'oo like to try it on?” he says with a heavy accent. “Aï can take it off ze mannequin, if 'oo would like.”  
Steve cuts off my protest. “That would be a wonderful idea, Albert.”  
The elder man smiles at Steve, ignoring my feeble protests (because deep down, I really want to try that dress on). He quickly shrugs the dress off the dummy and ushers me to the dressing rooms.  
“Miz, you are not wearing any makeup, yes?” inquires Albert. I shake my head.  
“No, sir,” I reply. He smiles gently.  
“Very well,” he says before handing me the magnificent garment.

I step out of the dressing room slowly, swallowing. Albert is nowhere in sight.  
“Well, how do I look?” I ask Steve. He turns to face me. He gives me a once-over, blinking rapidly.  
Then looks me over twice. Three times.  
I think the beautiful dress broke Captain America.  
“You... look... incredible,” he rasps. I blush.  
“Well, thank you, Steve.”  
“Will you buy it?” He says, looking away. I bow my head.  
“I'd love to, but... It's way too expensive.”  
“You know you're a billionaire, right?” he says, tilting his head. I shrug.  
“Tony is, I'm not.”  
“His money is your money, isn't it?” he counters, repeating the words Tony has told me several times.  
“I don't feel comfortable using his money for... dresses...”  
“Then I'll buy it for you,” decides Steve. I take a step back.  
“No, it's fine, Steve!”  
“You won't change my mind, Allis,” smiles Steve.  
“Well aren't you the gentleman,” I say with a hint of sarcasm. Steve sighs.  
“I'm not the gentleman everyone thinks I am.”

Around thirty to forty minutes later, Steve and I exit the quaint shop, and Steve is the proud owner of a beautiful suit (he modeled it for me, as Albert had to make adjustments – Steve's muscles were too muscly, can you believe it?) and I the proud owner of an amazing gown.  
“Well, that paid off,” says Steve with a smile. I nod.  
“So, Albert is going to send the suit and the dress to the Avengers' facility?”  
“No, he's sending it to Timbuktu,” answers Steve, winking. I groan.  
“Come on, you know what I mean.”  
We begin to take a small walk around the block, and we are about to cross the road when a scooter comes straight for me. I panic, and the next thing I know, the scooter hovers in mid-air, my arms are raised, wind is shooting out of my fingertips, supporting the scooter and the is driver looking around wildly.  
“Hey, can you put me down?” calls out the driver.  
I promptly obey. “Are you alright?” I ask, blinking wildly. The driver nods.  
“Are you an Avenger?”  
“She is,” answers Steve in my stead.  
All hell breaks loose. Questions of 'who are you?', 'what are your powers', and such emanate from everyone who saw the scene, and all I want to do is crawl up and die.  
I don't like being in the spotlight, and if it weren't for the dress, I would probably avoid the gala. But now that I have the dress, I can hardly not wear it, right?  
Right?

 

oOOOo  
Hello my friendsies! This has got to be the longest chapter I've ever written, for any fic whatsoever. It's mind-blowing (for me, at least).  
I hope you liked it, and I hope you like what comes next!  
For the French part of the fic, here is the translation.  
(The French words are in bold, y'all can't miss it!)

=> “I'm here to buy a ballgown”  
“Of course,”... “Are you French?”  
“Indeed, I grew up near Paris”...“I only very recently moved here, in the Avengers' tower”  
“Ah, I used to live in Paris”...“Beautiful, isn't it?”  
“But you aren't here to hear me talk about my past, no, no. What type of gown are you looking for? Evening gown, ballgown...”  
“It's more like a gala gown, sir,”...“I couldn't tell you more than that.”  
“No need, my dear, I think I have what you are looking for”.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve joined us one morning in the training room, nearly tearing the door off its hinges as he yanked it open. It was startling, to see him that way, and as I was attempting to control my fire-bearing skill, I nearly burnt Peter to a crisp as I jumped. Wanda snickered at me, and I shot her a dark look, that only resulted in the both of us snorting with laughter.  
"Listen up, kids," said Steve loudly. I frowned. Kids? Steve never calls us that usually; he'd include us in the rest of the Avengers, regardless of our age. "We have an Enhanced to deal with today, and this'll serve as real-life training for the four of you. I expect you to listen to what I say, and only to offer another way if you think it could be better. I don't want to lose any of you because you weren't paying attention, do you understand me?"  
We nod, taken aback by Steve's strained, tired face. He just got back from another mission with Bucky and Tony, and seeing as the first one killed the second one's parents, that must've gone SO well.  
Poor Steve.  
We make our way to the front room, where Steve sits us down to tell us about the Enhanced.  
"The person we're going to bring in today is names Mateo Kuzan. He is twenty-five years old, son of Kiana Kuzan and an unknown father."

"What are his powers?" asks Wanda after a second's pause. Steve hums approvingly. 

"He can grow enormous spider legs out of his back at will, and also spits venom." 

We all turn to Peter, as this sounds like he'd be somewhat of an expert. From one spider to another, I suppose...

"My guess is that we need to immobilize his... spider legs, and do our best to avoid his venom. Do we know what the venom does?" he adds quickly. Steve nods. 

"It can burn through metal, so as Peter said, steer clear of it."

There's something about Steve, today, that just seems off. As everyone clears out of the room, I follow the first Avenger into the hallway, and find him breathing raggedly, leaning against the wall. I speed up, and reach out to him, only to have my wrist snatched and pulled aside, away from him.

"Don't. Please, Allis, not now," he mumbles, eyes shut. I withdraw my hand as much as I can, but his grip is iron around it.

"If you let me go, that could help," I say, and he smiles wearily. He loosens his hold, and I slip my wrist out of his hand, but not completely. I take his hand in mine (or rather force him to take mine is his, as his hand is at least twice the size of mine).

He doesn't pull away, and we just stand there, silently, until he opens his eyes, and smiles gently at me.

"Thanks. That was exactly what I needed." He gazes down at our entwined fingers, gives my hand a light squeeze, and lets go. "Let's get this guy under lock and key," he states with a wolfish grin that I never knew I loved until this very moment.

oOOOo

Hello people!

Sorry I've been nowhere to be seen lately, but I've just started university life and it is awesome. I've been taken up by school a lot, which is great, but believe me, I'd rather spend my days on AO3 and do nothing else. 

So, I'm back, baby!

I hope this won't be the last chapter for a long time, I'm going to try posting somewhat regularly from now on.

Peace out, y'all!

**Author's Note:**

> I want to gift this fic to the most amazing writer I've encountered on AO3, Lady Emebalia.  
> You're incredibly talented!


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